


Her Impish Smile

by windandthestars



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Episode: s01e13 Revelations part 2, F/M, May-December Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's her smile that takes him back, brings back the memories and the guilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Impish Smile

**Author's Note:**

> For the AU meme request: Ashley/James; Sometimes he gets lost in his memories
> 
> The timeline diverges in Revelations Part 2. Helen, Will, and Henry die as applicable in Revelations and End of Nights in place of the others.

It's her smile, the impish one that makes one of her cheeks dimple, the one that looks so much like it did when she was younger, a child climbing determinately into her mother's lap not to ask permission but to seek forgiveness. It's her smile that takes him back, brings back the memories and the guilt. It had been hard on them when Helen had died, when they had lost Will and then Henry not long after. They had both been mourning, grieving, people who had defined so much of who they had been. 

He had known then that that was no excuse and even now, when the feeling overcomes him, their shared loss is of little comfort to him. He had stolen from her the one thing that had remained in her possession. He had been bewitched by her tenacity, the gleam in her eye he had come to know as buried pain, and the halo of blonde hair that, even now, was so much like Helen's had been. He had allowed himself to be blinded, to blind her. He had not allowed her to follow in her mother's footsteps, but had instead steered her away, relishing in her achievements as she had followed in his. She had given up her life and grown old by his side.

She doesn't regret it; he had asked her once when his mood has become inconsolable. She had smiled at him, the well-practiced patient look she had perfected over the years, and told him plainly that she could never regret the decades they had spent together. He had allowed her to raise two beautiful children that, despite their current teenage melodrama, she loved dearly. He had given them all a sense of stability, provided her a home when the network had all but fallen apart. For this she felt gratitude and wonderment not disgust or disgrace.

She hadn't lost but rather gained. It's an odd notion for him to grasp. It's not one to be quantified by science or deduced from half hidden clues and so he struggles with it still, fighting within himself when she grins and curls a finger beckoning him. 

"Come to bed, James." She purrs and he downs the last of his whiskey, drowning his guilt and tamping down the memories. 

"In a moment, darling."


End file.
